Sensha-dō for Beginners
by Ramblin'Wreck
Summary: Have you ever wondered how Jagdpanther-chan came to like sensha-dō? Well, this is my take on it.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Sensha-dō for Beginners

Summary: Have you ever wondered how Jagdpanther-chan came to like sensha-dō? Well, this is my take on it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Girls und Panzer, characters thereof, character designs or tanks. They all belong to their respective owners, Actas and Mizushima Tsutomu.

* * *

Four days. Just four more days and my books will finally arrive. Then my life in this new exile of mine will finally start to get better. I guess this is how Edmond Dantès must have felt. Prison: check; education: check; now way out for the next years: check! Although at least I know I will be here for three years only. He didn't even know he would get out someday and had to stay for eight years to finally find a way out.

Ok, that sounded far more depressing than I thought. Lying flat on your bed in your new, unlit dorm room after a whole day of cleaning, moving in, unpacking, scouring the area and generally being tired and sore does not seem to improve one's mood; especially after finding only one bookstore and not a single library in the vicinity. I must admit I'm not entirely happy with this situation, but I guess I shouldn't paint it that dark.

To clear up those ramblings a little bit: Right now I'm enrolled here at Kuromorimine Girls High School. This is a well-respected school sitting on a giant ship that looks like a massive aircraft carrier of sorts. I was quite shocked when I arrived here yesterday with the shuttle ship that took me out to sea. I expected something like a cruise liner but nothing with these dimensions. For some reason someone decided to build a ship large enough to house a small town. Not just the amount of people, but actually the whole town; streets, houses, cars, parks and everything. I even saw some low, forested hills in the distance. On the deck of a ship. Truly a strange feeling. This is a highly impressive place. Not necessarily nice, just impressive. I didn't figure out why this all was deemed necessary though. I will have to read that up later.

The reason why I'm here is actually the wish of my parents, not my own choice. I would have been quite happy to stay at my old school near Kawagoe. It had separate junior high and high school sections, a nice and cosy library and my parent's home not too far away. But for some reason my parents thought that my interest in literature was not enough to prepare me for the harsh reality of life. Supposedly being a certified bookworm does not automatically makes one a successful person after school. And I'm not kidding about the certified part; a grade school teacher actually knocked together a certificate for me. Not that I would ever tell anyone.

So they came up with their plan to enrol me in a high school with the possibility of taking sensha-dō classes as my electives; with the express aim of my participation in said classes. Lucky me. Mom was part of a sensha-dō club in high-school and she very much liked it. Nowadays she is a well-respected lawyer and married to my father, another lawyer. Our neighbours, the shop owners and her colleagues like her and value her highly. Exactly the sort of polite, dignified, respected and successful person in life and business that sensha-dō reputedly shapes. My guess about this: as stubborn and smart as she is, she would have been successful as a lawyer even if she took gardening classes, so I personally don't see the connection between siting in a noisy, dirty box and being successful in life. But mom firmly believes in this connection, dad believes in his wife, and after several discussions my fate was sealed. I'm now officially stuck with sensha-dō.

Please, don't get me wrong, I really love my parents and I'm sure they did this for what they see as my benefit. They didn't enrol me in a small school but in a school that would be considered prestigious even without its famous sensha-dō team, paid for my move and rent and sent me too a school too far away to visit them every day or even every weekend. That will most likely reduce our family time to next to nothing, considering that even before the times when we were all home together were quite rare and therefore highly valued by all of us. So they did go to great lengths just to get me into a very good school with an outstanding sensha-dō team. And I will thank them for that sometime later. Much later if you ask me now. But right now I do not enjoy being bossed around like this and I certainly don't like the idea of participating in a club like that. This is most likely something like a sports club dialled up to eleven: full of competitive people screaming at each other and severely cutting into my quality time with literature. Just think about it: the most likely people to join a club about tank warfare are either axe-crazy psychopaths loving to blow stuff up or military otakus crazy about the idea to play soldier with real tanks. I personally would rather join the literature club. That would mean a lot of quiet time to read, normal and sensible people to discuss nice books with and simply being able to enjoy some of the greatest works of some of the greatest authors that ever had the good grace to enrich our culture. Did I mention that I'm not entirely happy?

But I should stop getting distracted by my own thoughts and get ready for tomorrow. I think I'll skip dinner, too much of a hassle right now. Just prepare the books I'll need and lay out my new school uniform. Perhaps read a bit. Luckily I remembered to pack an emergency ration of books. I guess I'll settle for 'Hornblower and the Hotspur'. At least it is war-themed, that should help me prepare for my new required non-elective. Perhaps I should reread 'War and Peace' sometime later; although that's perhaps a bit too philosophical for useful hints.

Three o'clock at night. I guess I was somewhat absorbed in my book. Sleeping now.

That alarm clock rings much too early; it doesn't feel like I have slept at all. That's probably why I take much too long washing up and searching for my school uniform. As I walk by the mirror in my bathroom some of the massive changes slowly start to sink in. Right now I'm standing in my own bathroom, in my own dorm room, no mom in sight trying to cut in into our shower schedule, no dad around to ask the same old question of "Who wants coffee for breakfast?" and getting the same old answer "Everyone!" every day, just me and silence; and for a short moment I actually have problems in realising that the person in the mirror is actually me. The short brown hair is still the same as usual, but because I ditched my old, round glasses for contacts my eyes seem to stand out more. Now one can actually tell they are grey. That sort of matches my new uniform. With the medium grey jacket, a dark grey, almost black pleated skirt and matching black shoes and socks it looks a bit like an army uniform, but that's most likely intended; although I never had much time to research my newfound place of exile, one thing was immediately clear: Kuromorimine was a German-themed school, so those martial-minded types would probably not have much place for fun and games, and almost surely I would have to eat sausages and sauerkraut on a regular basis. I wonder how those actually taste, since I never had the chance to try some. And with that thought my stomach reminds me of the fact I didn't eat since yesterday's lunch and simultaneously my clock tells me that it is high time to go to school. I guess I will have to pick up a snack for breakfast and my lunch somewhere on the way. In hindsight I really should have checked for convenience stores and bakeries.

On my way to school I have a streak of luck: I find a bakery where I buy a croissant for breakfast, a convenience store selling packed lunches and several girls in Kuromorimine uniforms headed for school, so I won't get lost. Sadly I realise that most of the other girls are jogging or simply running and a quick check of my watch tells me why: it's almost time for the first period. Or rather one of those well-intentioned but horribly long-winded welcome-speeches by our schools headmaster, since today is the first day all the first-year students will come to school. Another downside about a school pretending to be German is that they are probably pretty strict about being on time for classes, so I better hurry up.

A gruelling seven minutes of jogging later the school's main gate crawls into view; just in time for me to see it slowly closing. Great, now I'm late on my first day of school and the short, black haired girl standing in front of the almost closed gate already noticed me. I guess there's no escaping this accusing glare, so I surrender to my fate and approach her, hoping that she'll let this one slide.

"You're late! What's your name and class?" she barks out while brandishing a tablet.

What a nice and pleasant person. Even if she is on the disciplinary committee, as her armband indicates, she could have been a bit more civilised. 'What? You can't be serious! The bell rung only seconds ago!' is what I want to say, but sadly I'm currently unable to. As I try to collect enough breath to answer her without excessive wheezing, her eyes suddenly snap open wide and she becomes slack-jawed as she stares in surprise past me. Damn, if I start laughing about her face now, this will only be the first of many more demerit marks I will collect. To hide my sudden attack of amusement I promptly turn around to see what caught her of guard and immediately understand her astonishment. I can see a fast moving whirl of short brown hair and grey uniform flashing by in front of me and realise this is a fellow schoolmate vaulting the main gate with all the grace of a professional high jumper. The girl lands easily on the other side of the gate, casually grabbing her shoulder bag out of the air; all while sending a cheery smirk in our direction. Then she simply turns around and dashes off towards the main gymnasium. Since the disciplinary committee member is currently sputtering incomprehensibly in the rough direction of a fast retreating sports ace, I use her state of distraction and slip past her back onto the school grounds and quickly set off towards safety. I just hope she can't leave the gate unattended.

A piece of advice for tomorrow: leave home earlier and try to enter the school in a larger crowd; I don't want her to spot me immediately.

Entering the gymnasium I realise the headmaster is just about to make his way towards the podium. So technically, while I might not be punctual, I'm still in time. The hall is quite crowded with what must be hundreds of girls. I guess not just the first-years are attending this presentation. The speeches held by the headmaster, a guidance teacher and the student council president are probably what you would expect, but the general sentiment strikes me as surprisingly cordial and congenial. I expected a somewhat more austere and demanding atmosphere. Following the end of the speeches we are send off to our class rooms, in my case 1-C.

On my way over to the main buildings I find myself at the receiving end of a hard pat on the shoulder. Startled I turn around, fearing the dreaded and probably livid disciplinary committee caught up with me, and stare directly into someone's chest. Looking up, I see a vaguely familiar grin framed by brown hair only slightly longer than my own. This is actually the girl whose demonstration of athletic capability facilitated my escape.

"Yo, Grumpy. How did yer meet with the dragon end? Could ya give her the slip?"

For a second I simply stare blankly at the huge schoolgirl in front of me before the first thought that bubbles up makes its escape "What are out talking about? Grumpy? I'm not looking that depressed!"

"Come on, girlie. Ya ain't exactly looking like a ball of sunshine. Guess ya got nabbed after all."

"Well, actually no. The disciplinary committee member was pretty dumbstruck, so I could walk right past her. I don't think she appreciated your little stunt, though, since she looked a bit upset."

I choose to ignore the 'girlie' and 'sunshine' bit of her comment. She seems nice enough and I don't want to offend her in case my supposed temper should actually exist. Some of my friends did comment on that occasionally, and sometimes I think they might actually possibly perhaps be right; at least a little bit.

"Nice, but don't worry about small stuff like that; it'll just ruin yer fun. Simply relax and move on. Everything else creates too much grey hair; and I'm way too young for that."

"As nice as that sounds, we should really move on. I doubt I'll have the good fortune to escape my demerit marks twice in a single day. What is your classroom?"

"1-C, but I got no clue where that is precisely. Right now I'm just following the horde. Takao Mai 's the name, by the way."

"My name is Nakajima Akemi, and it appears we are classmates. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Takao-san."

"Likewise, just do me a favour and stuff that Takao-san-business, just stick to Mai. Otherwise I always think my ol' man is around."

"I'll keep that in mind Mai-san, but we really should get going, since almost everyone else has left."

"Hopeless case, eh? Let's get cracking then."

Arriving at our classroom I realise my lucky streak is still around since our teacher didn't arrive yet. My new acquaintance steers me towards the back of the classroom where she spotted two empty seats next to each other. I mind neither the placement nor her company. Walking slowly behind her I can't help but notice how tall she actually is. My height is about average but she seems to easily tower over the rest of our new class. Luckily her laid-back attitude and her jovial half-smile prevent her from being intimidating. As I said, she seems nice, perhaps a bit overly familiar, but she doesn't immediately try to pry into someone else's past and wasn't aggravating during our short conversation on the way over, so I'll keep her company for the time being. For a new friend I could do a lot worse. A short look around reveals no one else strange besides Mai-san, so I lean back and relax a bit. Shortly after we settled down, our teacher arrived and regular school-business took over.

After conclusion of today's classes we are told to reassemble in the main gymnasium for a short introduction and presentation concerning our required electives. On our way we can see a lot of upperclassmen putting the finishing touches on several displays and booths of clubs and teams. The presentation featured representatives of all clubs giving a short summary of their club activities. Some of these were actually quite elaborate; athletic teams displaying their respective sports, a slideshow from the flower-arrangement club, a polite and graceful invitation from tea-ceremony club members dressed in kimonos, and a completely silent demonstration by the calligraphy-club practising their art on a large screen. But as expected the sensha-dō team tried to top everyone by showing a short film presenting the advantages and benefits of their club, styled to look like an old newsreel film. And I still don't buy their ridiculous misconception of how being thrown around in what must be one of the noisiest inventions of humankind, will make you a better person. A short time later we were dismissed and free to explore the school grounds with its many displays.

"Did ya already decide on a club or are ya still browsing for one? I could go for that tankery bit. It's been ages since I last did martial arts; was on the track team in middle school and did a bit of swimming on the side. And it doesn't look like they've some sort of mountain-biking club. Aah, I can't wait for a trip through the countryside with those tanks."

I should have guessed she would select a sport-oriented club, but I still don't see how this is a martial art; or even a sport. Well, I think I should consider myself lucky, since I won't have to do this on my own. It's always reassuring to have a familiar face around.

"I'll have to take up sensha-dō; it's basically the reason why I'm here at Kuromorimine. My parents' wish. So, I'll just have to make the best out of it and hope it works out somehow."

"Ya'll do fine; just remember the film; that was tons of fun. Let's find that club and sign up before the lists are full."

"Oh, I doubt that will happen. Clubs are always willing to enlist more members, and with such a famous team they'll probably have space for dozens of members."

A short while later we walk onto an open sports ground of sorts and then the soundtrack of Armageddon was upon us: loud rumbling, cracking and clattering ended with a high pitched screech. The sensha-dō club has positioned two gigantic tanks on both sides of a small stage, and in the background waits another smaller tank. The mutterings of the crowd identify the large tanks either as something called a 'Königstiger', 'Royal Tiger' or 'King Tiger'. The last idea they had was 'Tiger II'. At least I'm not the only one without knowledge. When not even those interested in sensha-dō can properly identify these tanks, I can feel a bit better. Then an extremely loud crack echoes over the place. As I jump in surprise, I realise that the third tank just shot. The large crowd in front of the stage is immediately silent. Nice trick. During this commotion three people in identical uniforms climbed the stage. The uniform is most likely the club uniform, since it too resembles an army uniform. It consists of a dark grey, almost black jacket with red highlights, a pleated red skirt, a small black cap and matching black boots. So they ride their tanks in short skirts. These girls have some strange ideas, since almost all other forms of regular clothing I can think of are probably better suited to the task. The girl in the middle of the stage takes up a microphone and starts to address the crowd.

"Hello everyone. My name is Hirogawa Eri, a third year and the president of the sensha-dō club. I'm delighted to see you all here. It is always a pleasure to meet people with an interest in tankery and I hope we will have a fantastic time together in our club. I think I'll spare you a long speech since you heard most of the information in the promotional movie we have shown during the lecture on required electives. " She has her brown hair up in a long ponytail and seems quite confident in speaking to such a large group. It must be more than sixty people; and that is not counting those with the club's uniform; all in all around hundred to hundred and twenty people. I couldn't do that. Seriously.

"The biggest news is that our club had the good fortune to gain several more tanks. That's why we had to reshuffle all our existing crews. Right now the second and third years in the club took over the tank commander positions, so that every tank has an experienced commander. We have done this to simplify your integration into the team. Everyone joining now can be integrated in a new crew, learn everything that is required and perhaps take command of an own tank later. This teambuilding is important because sensha-dō heavily relies on teamwork not just within the crews of individual vehicles but also as a team that has to work closely together to win; because it really is as the old proverb says: 'A well-coordinated team is invincible, a single tank is just a target.'  
So, before we start with the formation of the crews, I would like to introduce two special members of our club. The first one would be Itsumi Erika, a member of the renowned Nishizumi School of Tankery and our vice commander." She gestures towards a girl with long and open silvery grey hair wearing a stern expression. Itsumi-san makes a small step forward and bows stiffly before she steps back. She seems like a really strict and unfriendly person. I hope I won't have to deal with her too much.

"The other person is Nishizumi Maho, the heir of the Nishizumi School of Tankery. She has led us through many matches and towards many victories, so her position as our commander is a boon to all of us in the tankery club." While she talks, a girl slightly taller than the other one, with chin-length cut dark brown hair steps forward and where Itsumi-san seemed stern and unfriendly, Nishizumi-san looks downright cold and emotionless. She gives off the very image of a professional soldier and a battle-hardened veteran. Since she is the commander and the club has quite a good reputation, she is probably highly capable. I have never heard of this Nishizumi School but since she is the heir of a school her performance is probably on a completely different level than that of a normal high school club. But her gaze is really disquieting. And now she takes over the microphone.

"I welcome you all to our sensha-dō club. As a commander of the team I'll give my best to implement the teachings of the Nishizumi Ryu in this club during training as well as in matches. Not only teamwork is essential but also self-control. The Nishizumi Ryu emphasises to never give up and to always find a way forward; if you keep this in mind you will be successful in the art of sensha-dō." She nods sharply and hands the microphone back to our president, Hirogawa-san. Well, scratch that 'disquieting' bit, now she downright scares me. She sounds as though she really is some kind of general shortly before an important battle; and I have the distinct impression she sees it exactly like that. Serious business indeed.

"Now, after we got to know us all a bit better, we can start the formation of the new tank crews. For that I'll call up a single tank commander searching for new crewmembers. She will give you a short introduction and tell you which crewmembers she is looking for. For those who are not completely familiar with tankery, let me remind you of a few basic facts. Our tanks usually have four to six crewmembers, but five is the most common number. A typical crew of five consists of the commander, the radio operator, the driver, the gunner and the loader. Crews consisting of less than five persons usually combine two of these positions, while crews of six usually have two loaders. But that should be enough for now, because I know you all want to start. So here is our first commander in search for crewmembers." She hands the microphone to a girl coming onto the stage. She has long blond hair in two pigtails and shows a friendly smile.

"Hi everyone, I'm Aridagawa Harumi and command a Jagdpanzer IV. I'm looking for a gunner and a loader. My driver is one of the second years and that's about it. The Jagdpanzer only has a crew of four. So everyone who is interested in joining a small but fun tank destroyer crew should come to the front so we can meet up. Thanks everyone." With that she gave a cheery wave and hoped down. That didn't sound so bad and since I had no intention to wait much longer I turn to Mai-san, but before I can even open my mouth to ask if she would join this crew too, she curtly declares her rejection.

"Hell no, she is way to bossy. I know her type and I'm not joining her crew." And that was that. But since there is a large group of what I presume to be tank commanders I am not worried.

"Too whiny."

"Too bitchy."

"No guts."

"Is clueless."

With that and other selected arguments she shot down each and every commander presenting themselves. It seems Mai-san is either a very good judge of character or perhaps a bit hasty in her judgement. Now I'm getting worried, because the crowd in front of the stage and the group of commanders is quickly getting smaller.

"Too rash."

"Too shy."

Ok, that comment was unexpected. Too bad this was the last one. The crowd is gone and we and a few others are the last ones. After the last group leaves, the president gets hold of the microphone again and addresses the last remnants of the crowd.

"I'm very sorry, but I have to confess that all our currently fielded tanks are fully crewed. But if you are interested in tankery you can join anyway, because since our club is rather large we always have need for managers and additional repair crews. If you are interested in behind-the scenes work, you are more than welcome to join. You would be considered a substitute, so every time the need for further crewmembers should arise you could step in." This proposition doesn't seem to convince many, because several of the remaining girls start to leave.

"Hell no, I don't want to become a desk jockey! Don't ya have some sort of spare tank? Or an old one or stuff?" Mai-san, in her usual subtle way, tries her best to get us into a tank.

"Yes, you said that all fielded tanks are crewed. That sounds like there are more. Do you really want to lose several good team members just because of a fixed roster?" That is a girl of average height that originally stood in the front part of the crowd. Even from behind I can tell she is quite pretty. She wears her very long black hair in a high ponytail similar to the president and she is the first person I see that makes this austere school uniform look fashionable. After a short consideration Hirogawa-san, who by now has abandoned the microphone and stage and has joined our little group on the ground, sways her head from left to right and makes a proposal.

"Well, actually there is another tank. Our latest acquisition of tanks included an old museum display. The problem is this tank will need a bit of work before it is back in working order. Plus, you five", she looks around and I notice that we are indeed down to five new members. The other two are actually classmates of Mai-san and me, "would have no experienced member in your crew."

"Don't worry about that, pres! We'll manage somehow." Mai-san's optimism is admirable but not entirely convincing, I fear.  
"I think so too, Hirogawa-san. I firmly believe that we will be able to overcome these obstacles and grow into a fine tank crew." Whoa, I didn't expect that. The other two girls are a bit of an odd couple, one is shorter than me, has long, dark brown hair in a braid, wears glasses and gives of the aura of a geek. That is supported by her always playing with her smartphone or some other gadgets. But none the less, she seems to be genuinely friendly and cheerful. The other one appears to be her friend. I can rather imagine this girl with her long brown hair in a loose knot, who is slightly taller than me, but nowhere near the towering height of Mai-san, in the tea-ceremony or flower arrangement club. If anything she looks rather gentle and elegant, like a proper lady. And the last comment, that was actually her. It seems she is a bit more outspoken or passionate than I expected. And our combined good will seems to be enough to sway the president, because after a short discussion she agrees to let us try our hand at working on this mysterious tank.

On our way over towards the tank hangar we resort to a quick round of introductions. The pretty girl with long dark hair is a first year from class 1-A, and her name is Kisaragi Misaki-san. The elegant one is called Kashihara Naoko-san and her smaller friend is named Mikuma Yumi-san. Then there's Takao Mai-san, our tall resident sports ace and myself, Nakajima Akemi. I think we should get used to each other because, as it seems to be, we are now a complete tank crew. But I think it is probably easier than I suspected, because right now it seems that these people don't seem to be as aggravating as I feared. I must admit, things are looking up right now.

* * *

Author's Notes: This story is the result of a discussion gone sideways, and my first attempt at writing a story. So if anyone should have advice or criticism, I would appreciate your opinion.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Sensha-dō for Beginners – Chapter 02

Summary: Have you ever wondered how Jagdpanther-chan came to like sensha-dō? Well, this is my take on it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Girls und Panzer, character designs and characters thereof or any tanks. They all belong to their respective owners, Actas and Mizushima Tsutomu.

* * *

'All hope abandon ye who enter here.' That's roughly what flashed through my brain a few seconds ago when I first saw what is supposed to be our new tank. No, absolutely not. This simply has to be a big mistake. On our way towards the back of the tank repair shop we crossed the tank hangar and had the chance to see several rows of neatly parked and impeccably looking tanks. Some of those looked a bit strange, but I couldn't really discern why. But right now we are standing in front of what must be, without a single doubt, the largest heap of rust I've ever seen. Vaguely shaped like a chipped brick with a dent at the back and a pole sticking out of it on the other side. For a short moment I hoped it was only my inexperience with tanks, but a short look around shows similar looks of disappointment and shock on my crewmates and a slightly ashamed expression on our president.

"Well, as I have said, this tank is in the need of a bit of work before we can use it in matches. Originally we wanted to wait with repairs until next season, since our repair team is usually pretty busy. But if you five would handle the rough spots, they could take over for the delicate mechanical bits."

Needs. A Bit. Of work. These words just went straight towards the top ten of this year's understatements.

"I feel I need a tetanus shot just from looking at it. The only thing holding it together is the rust." Kisaragi-san, you are right, but I don't think you have to hug your midsection with that horrified expression. I doubt it will pounce on us. It looks very much dead to me. Looks like it was buried, too.

"Are you sure this tank can be restored to working order? Right now it looks pretty wrecked." I just had to make sure that this is actually our tank.

"Yes, we don't want to sound ungrateful, but to the untrained eye it seems like that." Even Kashihara-san isn't convinced.

"Well, so I have been told. I tell you something: I will fetch someone from our repair team and you can question them for details. But I fear I'll have to leave for now; unfortunately I have to work on the paperwork for our new teammates. You can have a closer look around your tank. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Allright, Hirogawa-san. That sounds like a plan. We'll check it out, and meet you tomorrow."

With that cleared up she bowed and returned to the clubrooms, which were located inside the tank hangar, while I have to clear up a question that has bugged me for some time. Ok, more likely five minutes, but none the less, I have to find out.

"So, has anyone got a clue about sensha-dō or tanks?"

"Na, not really. I just hope this one is fast. It looks somewhat aerodynamic." Mai-san: no.

"I did play an online game for some time, but I'm better with computers and programming. I guess this won't help much." Mikuma-san: no; time to start worrying.

"I like movies, and I have watched a lot of war-movies, so I have seen them in action, but nothing technical or something like that." Kisaragi-san: most likely no. We could really need some help now.

"I'm very sorry, but I fear my knowledge in this field is almost non-existent, although I would like to learn more about sensha-dō, tanks and their inner workings." That is very commendable, Kashihara-san, and I'm sure it'll help in the long run, but right now we are somewhat lost.

"I have to admit, I can't contribute much knowledge, since I've never had much interest in tankery. I guess we'll have to start from scratch."

"Seems to be the case, kiddos." A clearly bemused voice rang out behind us, coming from the depths of the tank workshop. As we turn around, a figure with unruly reddish brown hair cut to approximately chin length, clad in an oil-stained reed green overall and heavy shoes appears behind a, uuh, some sort of machinery. She seems to size us up while she approaches; and whatever she sees in our little group, she doesn't stop being amused.

"Hi everyone, I'm Yuuka, chief mechanic and commander of our Bergepanther, our main recovery vehicle. Welcome to my lair." Right now she sounds a bit ominous, all without dropping her bemused smile. "Eri-chan has told me we'll be working together for the time being, since you lucky guys got your hands on our Jagdpanther."

"Yes, we are the crew for this tank. Thank you for your help and letting us work here. The lady over there is Kashihara Naoko-san, the tall one here is Takao Mai-san, the one next to her is Kisaragi Misaki-san, the one climbing onto the tank is Mikuma Yumi-san and I'm Nakajima Akemi. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you all. I must admit, I never thought that this tank would be given to complete rookies. But it's fine with me. I'm glad someone can take care of this little baby. And with that we come to a very important matter: care. If you want to work in my workshop, you'll have to obey some basic rules. If you disregard these, I can't guaranty your safety, and following this I will have you kicked out of the club; and please don't think of this as an empty threat. It isn't. Look, I don't want to sound like a megalomaniac in training, but you always have to remember that you'll be working with some pretty weighty stuff, so you'll have to be careful. That's why you will always wear safety boots while working and you will never use power tools without proper instruction by me or one of my teammates. And you will never ever operate one of our cranes or overhead gantries. When you need some heavy equipment shifted, call me. No-one will complain about something like that. I don't want anyone to be squished by their own tracks or something."

"Uhm, 'squished by tracks'?" This is starting to sound slightly dangerous.

"Yeah, just look at the tracks of your own tank. One of these consists of 86 links weighing about 24 kilogram each." She kicks a massive coil of black, rusted metal that looks vaguely like a roughly made conveyor belt. Only is this belt about two thirds of a meter wide and the whole coil is more than 1.5 meters in diameter.

"Wow; that would mean that one of these tracks weighs 2064 kilogram. That's way more than a normal car." Kisaragi-san seems to be quite good at math. I wonder if she would mind helping me out sometime. I've never particularly excelled at math or calculus.

"Roughly 2050 kilogram. But as you noticed: when you are handling two tons of metal, a few kilograms more or less won't make any difference. And the whole tank weighs more than 45 tons.  
Ok, I guess I should stop ranting about safety, especially since I'll have to help you with your first steps in tank repair. While doing this I'll remind you of these aspects until they become a habit. But now on towards something more productive. Have you had a look around your tank yet?"

We all had to deny this, although Mikuma-san did inspect a bit more.

"Thought so. What we have here is often referred to as the best tank destroyer build during the Second World War, one of the latest versions of the German Jagdpanther. It is a very well-balanced vehicle, sporting good speed, tough armour and damn hard-hitting gun. "

"But it doesn't seem to have a turret like the other tanks we saw in the hangar." I have to agree with Kisaragi-san. Now that she points it out, it is rather obvious and that's probably what irritated me on our way through the tank hangar. Some of those tanks simply didn't look like tanks at all.

"Ah, yes that's right. That is the reason why it is classified as a tank destroyer, rather than a normal tank. This Jagdpanther is based on the Panther medium tank. The manufacturer simply choose not to install a rotating turret, but created this fixed superstructure instead. Ok, admittedly it is a bit more complicated, but this is the basis."

"But wouldn't you lose some flexibility by doing this? I've never played the tank destroyers, but I always thought that a tank is the best because it can fire and drive into different directions." Mikuma-san's knowledge might stem from a game, but she seems to be on to something.

"This sounds evident to me. Why would one do something like that?"

"Easy. There are three main reasons. First, when you install a gun into a turret, the size of the gun is obviously restricted by the size of the turret and you can't just enlarge the turret because it will become too heavy for the tank. If you chose to install the gun directly into the hull of your tank, you can mount a larger and heavier gun and thus making your tank destroyer less flexible and responsive but far more deadly. The drawbacks of this arrangement have to be addressed and eliminated by well-considered tactics in the field. The second reason is the height and size of the vehicle. If you mount a turret on a tank hull, the hull itself needs a certain amount of space and subsequently height. And now you have to consider the same with the turret. For it to be functional, it too needs a certain amount of space and height. If you combine these two heights, you will find that they amount to about three meters, in the case of the Panther. If you mount the gun directly into the hull, you can arrange parts differently because you don't have the strict intersection between the hull and the turret. This reduces the height of your tank to about 2.5 meters. And this means that you are harder to spot and hit. Thirdly there is the cost. Since a fixed superstructure doesn't need all the complicated mechanics and components it is much cheaper and faster to produce. Simple as that."

Alright, I've never been one to object gaining information and knowledge, but there has to be a simpler, shorter way to explain all that. Especially since she sounded like she explained that several times already.

"Thanks for clearing that up. But what should we do first? I can see a lot of rust, so much in fact that it seems to me that this tank is truly and finally wrecked." I still have some small, lingering doubts, I must admit.

"Don't let a bit of superficial rust bother you. This Jagdpanther is in pretty good shape, since it was stored on the grounds of a museum. It is complete, undamaged and not burned out. So we just have to clean it up and restore it to running condition. First thing to do is that you'll arm yourself with high-powered pressure washers equipped with special nozzles to get rid of that rust and paint. After that we'll remove the gun, so we can reach the gearbox-assembly and pull that out too. Next thing to go is the engine; we have to check if it can be used again or if we have to use one of our spares. In that way you are lucky. Since the Jagdpanther is based on the Panther we can use a lot of spare parts for both of them. Once the tank is empty, some of my girls will check your suspension and road wheel bearings and overhaul your gun while some of you have lots of space to clean the interior. The others will disassemble the clutch, gearbox and steering system and strip the engine. All those parts will have to be cleaned and checked. If we can use those parts, I'll supervise the reassembly and calibrate and fine-tune the engine. After that we can put all those parts back together, reinstall the gun, and we will have your baby purring like a kitten again in no time at all."

The silence coming from us five is a bit awkward, and I can't exactly discern why. It could be the fact that she listed an amount of work that would make Sisyphus turn pale, or that we would have to complete several tasks usually reserved for experts in their field, or that she actually sounds confident and calm as if this all wasn't anything special, or that she seems to completely ignore the fact that we know next to nothing about the inner workings of a tank. Or that I have serious problems imagining a massive tank purring like a kitten. It is overwhelming, to say the least.

"Oh, I forgot. Someone has to knit a new electric system. The insulation on those old wires easily crumbles and you'll have shorts all over the tank. Not the nicest feeling." Great. Just great.

Obviously recovering from their shock, two of my new comrades look like they want to start right away. Unsurprisingly those two are Mai-san and Mikuma-san. I guess the promise of finally driving the tank really spurs Mai-san on, while Mikuma-san seems to like technology as a whole. Kisaragi-san looks somewhat reluctant, although I don't know why.

"That's a lot of cleaning for something that might or might not work. Is there a way to ensure that we'll be able to get this thing back into working order?" It seems even several monologues from our friendly mechanic couldn't sway Kisaragi-san's doubts. As a matter of fact, I can easily understand her feelings on this matter, since I too have serious doubts about my capabilities in restoring tanks.

"I am very sorry, but I must admit, that I fear our abilities might not be adequate to accomplish this task." Kashihara-san would be the last one to speak up, but again I must agree.

"I think those two are right. I've never done anything like this." I even bring my bike to the shop if it isn't working right. Of course I omit this particularly bit of information. I fear Yuuka-san might die laughing. I don't want that on my conscience.

"Don't give me this defeatist talk. You might not know jack about tanks, but others do. They will help you. As my dad owns a car repair shop, I've been tinkering with cars and engines since I could pronounce 'carburettor' and I've been part of sensha-dō teams since my first year in middle school. That's six years of knocking tanks back together; with the other ten girls of my repair, recovery and maintenance team we have about thirty years' worth of tank repair experience under our collective tool belt. So, whether you can repair this tank depends on just one simple thing: Do you want it to be fixed? If you lack the will and motivation to do it, you won't succeed. However if you want your own tank, you'll get it working. Simple as that." Her spirit in these things is quite admirable and, as it seems, even infectious, since Kisaragi-san looks lost in thought and Kashihara-san, surprisingly, beams with joy. This little motivational speech did truly impress her.

Since I have to take part in sensha-dō, I don't have much of a choice. Tankery with a tank seems to be slightly more interesting than tankery without a tank. So I guess I should at least give it a chance. I look from one person of our little group to the next, but by now they all look approving, so I simply nod and turn towards Yuuka-san.

"I think you convinced us, Yuuka-san. I think I speak for all of us when I thank you for your assistance and encouragement. Could you tell us how to start working?"

"Yeah, we want to get started ASAP. No need to waste any more time." Mai-san is basically glowing with excitement, now that all worries have been put aside. Well, not mine, but we'll see.

"That's the spirit, kiddos. But you have to wait for tomorrow. Me and my girls have to get this puppy outside first and rig a shelter for you to clean it in. Just come after school and bring your PE uniform, some towels and hot drinks. In the meantime, you can have a look around your Jagdpanther, while I inform the gang. See you tomorrow."

And with that we are alone again, standing around a tank that still looks like a rusty wreck to me. Mikuma-san is still standing on the bit of tank behind the superstructure, and tries to open some of the doors. Since I don't like standing around idly, I start to climb up there too. The outside of this tank isn't really interesting, just some large steel plates and a whole lot of wheels in a couple of different sizes. It is not even standing on these track-things. After a bit of struggle with the slope in front and a friendly boost by Mai-san, I start climbing up towards the roof. I guess we'll have to look for a step of sorts that we can mount somewhere, so we can easily get onto our Jagdpanther. As I reach the top, I find the roof cluttered with all sorts of hatches and small box-like objects which makes navigating this bit slightly difficult. That's because I obviously try not to step on anything, so nothing breaks. At the back Mikuma-san actually succeeded in opening a large door on the back while Mai-san, who is closely followed by Kashihara-san, pries open one of the hatches on the roof with one of the small keys taped to them and its handle.

"Wow, Yuuka really wasn't kidding when she said we will need to clean up the interior. That's a real mess down there. And it stinks." Mai-san's comments were slightly muffled on behalf of her head being inside the tank.

"I must agree, the interior may not be as rusty as the outside, but it appears quite dirty and soiled." As Kashihara-san, who moves as easily on the top of the tank as Mai-san, agrees, I too try to get a look inside. It's not that I'm interested in the inside of the tank or something, but since those two agree so quickly I'm a bit intrigued by the mess they are commenting upon. That's all.

Kisaragi-san, who joined Mikuma-san on the back, while those two where already inspecting the inside, is a bit more blunt about the matter as her face contorts while taking a look through the open door at the back.

"Bloody hell, whatever died in here didn't clean up after itself. And the inside is not just dirty, it's a complete mess. Everything is stained with oil and rust; there are even empty shells and old blankets or bits of canvas lying around." With most of the doors and hatches open there is just enough light inside to get a good look around. I fear I have to agree with Kisaragi-san. There is indeed a lot of rubbish strewn and dirt around the inside. Some of it looks light bits of piping slightly shorter than one meter and a bit more than ten centimetres in diameter. If those are the empty shells Kisaragi-san was talking about, we are in trouble. Since they probably won't be filled with candyfloss, those things will be heavy. I think I feel my muscles getting sore just by looking at those shells.

Mikuma-san, brave and adventurous, is actually climbing inside, paying close attention to where she is stepping and what she is touching. Her mobile is providing additional light and we are able to see some more details and crud. The inside would be surprisingly spacious, if it weren't for this massive gun. She passes one of the spent shells on to Mai-san, who examines it shortly and shows it to us. Obviously I don't know much about tanks and guns, but this looks like a very large and heavy shell. Two of these on top of each other are probably taller than me and the casing alone weighs probably around six kilos. It seems Yuuka-san was right, when she told us about our tank having a large gun. My musings are cut short by an excited squeal by Mikuma-san, as she starts to babble about something, most likely concerning the three, roughly microwave-sized, boxes littered with switches and dials on the front.

"Look at that. Those must be the radios. They are looking in great shape, just a bit dusty. I bet they still use vacuum tubes. I can't wait to check them out. Nowadays no-one uses those, so I never had the chance to play with some of those." A short look around assures me of not being the only one lost. The others have similar looks of cluelessness and mild surprise. I think no-one of us expected an outburst like that; and I doubt that anyone understood much of that either.

"Mikuma-san, I understand you are delighted to see those old radios, but would you remind me what exactly those 'vacuum tubes' are supposed to be? I think I've heard the name before, but I can't recall what they do." I might have exaggerated my understanding of her joy slightly, but I better enquire a bit more, in case I'm missing something important.

"Oh, this is easy. They are basically small glass tubes that work like electrically operated switches. Transistors are their successors, so you could say they are the grandfather of the modern computer-chip. These little bits of glass and wire are the foundation of our modern society. That's why it is so great to work with such old technology." Again, stunned silence follows her exclamation. I'm not sure this is all correct, but she really seems to like stuff like that, so I won't protest.

Further searching reveals a lot more bits and pieces of our 'new' tank, but most of it is the tank-equivalent of Russian literature: copious amounts of seemingly unrelated parts, highly detailed sections and mostly incomprehensible. It doesn't necessarily help that all labelling is in German.

"Hey, if we can't do anything useful, let's go and grab something to eat. When I look around right now I can only find more dirt and more questions. So, let's bail."

"I must admit, Mai-san has a valid point. Without help we are basically helpless, since we don't have any idea how to repair this tank." The fact that I'm somewhat hungry right now might be a small additional point, but the main reason is obviously our inability to do anything purposive right now.

"Why don't we go to Naoko's place? Her parents run a traditional teashop, but we can get some small snacks too; and their tea is totally delicious." It slipped my mind, but Mikuma-san and Kashihara-san already know each other; obviously good enough for Mikuma-san to naturally state the completion of special orders. Truly an odd couple. And by the way, this sounds pretty good.

"This sounds like a good idea. Would that be alright with you, Kashihara-san?"

"I believe that won't be any problem. On the contrary, my parents will be delighted to meet you all. Additionally, our tea shop isn't too far from the school, so the trip over is quite short."

With everyone agreeing, we set of. And as promised, a short trip later we arrive at a shop that is obviously a traditional teashop. It looks like it has been transplanted from Edo, two hundred years ago. I still have to struggle with this concept of schools and whole cities on ships. Those people go to truly ridiculous lengths to provide us students with a normal city life and learning experience while still keeping all this on a giant ship. But my musings are cut short when we follow Kashihara-san inside and are presented with the breath-taking interior. The shop itself is surprisingly small, only a handful off tables on each side of a central aisle leading to a counter. One side has traditional booths with low tables, the other one western style tables and chairs. What impresses me most, is the décor which again looks like lifted directly from the past, accentuated with wall scrolls adorned with proverbs and poems written in calligraphy, dividing screens decorated with Chinese ink landscape paintings and beautiful arranged flower bouquets and sprays. We are greeted by a tall, beautiful lady clad in a classic, dark blue coloured kimono, looking uncannily like an older version of Kashihara-san. The most obvious difference, besides looking a bit older, is her slightly darker hair.

Belatedly I register the numerous patrons occupying most of the tables and a man behind the counter working in an open kitchen. A few moments later Kashihara-san ends her soft-spoken and short discussion with her mother and, in a troubled and hesitating way, turns towards our small group.

"I'm very sorry, but presently our shop is quite busy. I would like to invite you to my room, so we won't occupy the last few seats, if you don't mind."

"Oh, that is no problem at all. We don't mind at all." I try to console her after a short look around the group, because she looks surprisingly distressed about this small matter. I guess she is the type who really doesn't like to break promises, even if it is just a trifle like this. I don't know her to well, but I don't like her fretting like this. The only one not immediately agreeing is Mai-san, who casts a longing look in the direction of the kitchen before finally nodding.

After seeing the shop, Kashihara-san's room is no big surprise. Neat, tidy and decorated with a lot of pictures. Only a few rows of books though. After we sat down around a low table, except for Mikuma-san who simply flopped down onto the bed, Kashihara-san excuses herself to make good on her promise about the tea. I decide to have a short look around and start with the bookshelf. It's not that I'm nosy or anything, but I like to know what books other people read. This selection is a bit disappointing, but puzzling at the same time. It is a curios mix of romance novels, books on flower arrangement, calligraphy, business administration and, unsurprisingly, tea-ceremony. Odd. It looks like she almost only has hobbies usually connected with the ideal of a dignified and refined lady. The pictures on the walls reveal another of her hobbies: Naginata-dō; which fits right into the picture. It makes sense when you take into consideration that her parents may be very old-fashioned. I just hope she isn't forced into all this by her parents. That would be horrible; I can relate.

"She's really amazing like that." A bit startled I halt my musings and look around to see Mikuma-san smiling warmly in my direction. She must have realised I have been looking at those pictures and books for a while.

"Yes, she looks quite intense in those photos. Either she has a lot of very diverse hobbies or she must really strife to be a lady like her mother."

"Yumi, could you help me with these trays?" Further discussions are cut short by Mikuma-san leaving to help Kashihara-san, but something in her tone piques my interest and reminds me to pick that up later on. I'm not sure if I want to ask rather private questions like these with the whole group around. To be honest, I'm not even completely sure if I want to ask them at all.

Those two return moments later, each carrying a large tray, which they both deposit on the table. One harbours several cups, a teapot and a small stove, the other one a selection of Dim-Sum, steamed dumplings and some sweets. It looks like quite a treat. The elegant and practised way of Kashihara-san serving the tea is an additional bonus. Unsurprisingly, Mai-san is eager to start on the snacks and to be polite and not let her be the only one eating, I join her. The discussion immediately dies down to sporadic praises of the snacks, tea and sweets.

"Hey, about the tank. I have a great idea!" Mikuma-san is the first to finish eating and simply enjoying this absolute brilliant tea.

"Shouldn't we name our tank? I know it's called Jagdpanther, but shouldn't we, sort of, personalize it? That would make it much more fun."

"Name it? Like what? 'Fifty Shades of Rust?'" Oh, excellent deadpan delivery, Kisaragi-san; although I would have liked a reference to some real literature better. And the name is really apt, though I'm not sure 'fifty' is enough.

"I would suggest 'Camellia' for the name of our tank." Kashihara-san's idea is a bit strange, naming a tank after a flower, but she is most likely the best expert on flowers in our little group, so I won't object. A short look around tells me she is the only expert on flowers in this group.

With the first suggestion hanging in the room, Kisaragi-san clearly perks up and excitedly starts firing off several suggestions.

"How about 'Llandudno', that is fitting; or 'Belinda', although I'm not sure about that one. Oh, or how about 'Memphis Belle'? No, wait it is a tank, so it simply has to be 'Lulubelle'!" Before she talks our heads off with more, frankly strange names, I try to get my own idea in.

"How about 'Surprise'? I think this would be fitting and hopefully a good omen."

"As in 'good surprise' or 'bad surprise'?" A curious Mai-san interjects.

"I hope a bit of both; a good surprise for us and a bad for our opponents." To be honest I'm still trying to find this particular good bit.

"Or how about 'Atropos'? I think, if our tank's gun is really so amazing, it would be fitting."

"I don't know. That sounds like a disease or a poison or something. We should stick to something more positive." Kisaragi-san, this is not a disease, really; although I must admit, for a sport it's probably a bit too aggressive. But before I have the chance to explain my idea, Mai-san suddenly speaks up.

"Yeah, all's great, but we should wait until we know how our tank feels and works. That should help us with the decision. 'Sides there's something much more important to settle."

"Mai-san, this is a good point, but what else is there to 'settle'?" I just wish she had made it a bit later. Our little chat was starting to get somewhere. Even if my last suggestion wasn't universally liked.

"Simple. Our crew-positions." Oh, right. There was that. I sort of forgot about that. All those sheer impossible tasks we had to finish were a bit of a distraction.

"Can I be the driver? Please? Pleeeaaase?" Oh god. This is wrong. Simply and absolutely wrong. Mai-san just balled her hands under her chin and is looking at us with, what can only be described as puppy dog eyes. And this looks very strange on someone who, up until now, usually showed some sort of lazy half-smirk. After a second of being stunned by her display, I can't keep myself in check anymore and hastily turn away and almost fall over with laughter. Luckily I'm not the only one, since the whole table is cracking up right now. Even Mai-san herself joins in as she sees our reactions. Is that a hint of satisfaction in her smile? Somehow I can't help but think this was her goal from the start.

"If she is our driver, can I be the radio operator? I would really like to handle these old radios." Mikuma-san's pleas almost remain unheard as everyone else is still laughing.

"Well, has anyone else a position he would like to take up?" Still giggling, I ask the others, simply because I don't have a clue on what to do in tank. But the other two simply shake their heads, not yet ready to speak.

"I guess you two get your positions by default. When you don't like them, I guess we can always shuffle those jobs around." Before that we should find out what all these positions exactly do.

"Nice of ya. Can't wait to get this thing moving. If yer nice, I let ya have a shot at it." It seems Mai-san is back to her old form, though her large and somewhat cheeky smile looks more honest and less smug.

After these matters are settled, the discussion slowly spirals away from sensha-dō, as our combined extensive knowledge of tankery is exhausted, towards more mundane topics like TV-shows, favourite books, cakeshops and other important matters.

A long time later I fall into my bed. This day was surprisingly tiring; or should I say draining? I'm not used to extensive group conversations anymore. Although I must admit, that these four are quite a likeable bunch. Right now it's a bit before midnight and after eating all these snacks and drinking that delicious tea, I'm not hungry. I think I'll just go to bed. I should better not be late tomorrow.

High points of the day: I met four nice people.  
Low points of the day: Still stuck with sensha-dō; sensha-dō is a thinly veiled attempt at slave labour; still without my books; didn't even have time to read today; almost late for school; didn't see my parents; tired.

Didn't I forget something?

Crap. Homework!

* * *

Author's Notes: That took a bit longer than expected. Thanks for the encouraging reviews. As usual, if anyone should have advice or criticism, I would appreciate your opinion.


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